Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (18 page)

“Fuck it.  They're already there.  Gingers are in high demand.  We're rare.”

“You're lying.”

“You're gonna go home and look.”

“Probably.”

“Type in teeny weeny ginger beanie.  It'll come right up: Liam McDermott.”

I could've kissed him for making me smile despite the mood I was in.  “Why did I break up with you?”

“Because I was seventeen and had no sexual prowess.”

“Oh yeah.”

“That’s rectified now.  I’d like the chance to make it up to you.”

“July’s a long time to wait.”

“You’re worth it.”  Smirking, he leaned in and pressed another kiss just shy of my mouth.  He was toying with Peter.  I could see it in his smile.  “I waited four years for a second chance.  I can wait a few more months.  Besides, we can always sext until then.”

“Bye Liam.”  I decided to leave before his teasing went too far.  Either I was going to take him home with me or Peter was going to get into a second fight.  He was watching from the hall, staring daggers in my direction.  No, some things never changed.

“See you.”

Stepping outside, I let the cold air wash over my face, and realized I didn’t have my coat with me.  Or my fucking house keys.  I’d just given them to Peter.

“I can drive you,” Marshall offered.  “You’re going to break an ankle in those heels, or you’re going to freeze your ass off, whichever comes first.”

I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back inside.  I think I’d rather risk a fracture or hypothermia.  “Thanks for intervening back there between Peter and Jake.”

Marshall lifted his shoulders.  “He told me to mind my own business.”

“You’re a real upstanding employee.”

“He got what was coming to him.  What he’s doing is wrong.  There’re rules—
there’re rules
,” he repeated when I rolled my eyes.  “You don’t mess with a guy’s little sister.  It would be one thing if he cut the shit, but he keeps fucking around.  It’s not cool, and he knows it.”

“I can’t take it anymore.  I don’t know if I’ll last until Coop delivers.”

Marshall sighed lowly, and blessed himself with the sign of the cross.  “I like you, kid, so I’m gonna spell this out for you.  One of you needs to give.  Right now, you’re both like poles, and like poles repel.  Unlike poles attract.”

Huffing petulantly, I looked away.  I wasn’t chasing him.  He could kiss my ass if he thought I was going to fall all over his feet like one of his groupie girlfriends.  “I don’t know if I like the guy anymore.  He’s a condescending sexist jerk.  He doesn’t even like me.  He only kissed me because I bruised his ego.”

“If you believe that, you’re lying to yourself.  He’s a good guy.  He just keeps making shitty decisions.”

“Pfft.”  Whatever.

“Like poles, kid.  One of you constantly has your back to the other.  All it takes is for one to switch poles and, BOOM, magnetic attraction.”

“So why’re you telling me and not Jake?”

“Because Jake has a sister.  He’s not going to break the rules easily.”  It would be an open invitation for any schmuck to make a play on her.

To my right, the bar door burst open.  A conflagration of bodies and limbs stumbled onto the sidewalk.  I squinted against the faint parking lights trying to differentiate ass from elbow.  My God, was that—“Liam?”  There was no mistaking his red hair.  Holy shit.  Nor the blond curls of his opponent.  “Jake!”

Marshall folded his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels, the quirk in his right brow daring me to object.  “Does that look like a guy ok with another man hitting on his girl?”

Chapter 14
 

S
etting her glass on the tray table, Coop sighed and sat back in her chair.  “
I want to stay here for-ev-er.”

Coop, Em and I were spending the day at the spa, courtesy of Tate.  Coop wanted to get out of the house.  I hadn't expected them to foot my bill, but they insisted.  I wasn't complaining.  Working for a rock star did have its perks.

Tate even sent along a catered brunch complete with mimosas in stem glasses.  Not that Coop could drink alcohol.  Instead she chose to splurge on my chagrin while her masseuse worked on her feet and calves with the ferocity of a butcher tenderizing a cut of beef.

“Why you not have pastry?” the woman asked.  She looked up from her work at hand, her perfectly groomed brows raised in a curious arch.  Her name was Mei, and she had the most exquisite green eyes I’d ever seen.

“
I had one already.” 
Coop patted her belly as if it explained everything.  “
Watching what I eat.  Less calories I have to burn later.”

“Pah!  You no fat!”  She traced the curve of muscle along Coop's left calf.  “Look at that muscle!  You strong!”

Em grinned behind her mimosa.  “That's because she has them wrapped around her husband's waist all the time.”

“
Like you have room to talk
,” Coop retorted.  “
Your underwear was hanging out of Shane's sleeve the other day
.”  They had fallen partially from his sleeve when he reached for his coffee.  God knows how they made it up his sleeve.  I say God knows because when Carter inquired, Shane simply shrugged and smiled crookedly then stuffed them into his pocket.

“What about you?” Mei asked me.  “You no have boyfriend?”

“No, but I’m working on it.”  Liam was texting me as we spoke.  He texted me at Sea-tac, during his layover in Dallas, at the airport in Madrid, and just now, from the locker room at his soccer camp.  He sent me a panoramic dick pic.  By the looks, he’d gotten the whole team in on the action.  I was currently looking at every color pube across the spectrum.  Almost.

‘
Happy posting
,’ it read.

‘
No point.
’ I replied. 
‘You’re not in it
.’

‘
High demand.  I can’t give it away for free
.’

‘
Whatev.
Seen one, seen em all
.’

‘
I know; it’s all in how you use it
.’

‘
Well, I’m a nurse so I’m usually sticking caths in them.
’

A few seconds passed.  I watched the dots wink and disappear, and wink again as he typed and deleted his response.  ‘
If you didn’t want me sending dick pics, you only had to say.
’

I giggled over his backpedaling, and tapped in a reply while trying not to blemish my freshly painted nails.  ‘
Please don’t send me any more dick pics.
’

‘
Yes, Nurse Ratched
.’

Swiping the screen, I dropped my phone onto my lap and sank into my chair.

“Was that the soccer player?” Em inquired.

“Yes.”

“Do you have a picture?”

“No, just his teammates, whom I now know intimately.”

“Are you going to share?”

“You really want to see twenty-two flaccid peckers?  I can promise they're nothing impressive.”

“I missed out on the eccentricities in life when I was your age, so yeah.  I want to see what I was missing.”

“
Don’t let her fool you.  She knows what she missed
,” Coop spoke up.  “
That's why her thongs were up Shane's sleeve the other day
.”

Insistently, Em held out her hand and wiggled her fingers.  “Give it over.”

Carefully picking my phone from between my thighs, I handed it to Em.  “Try to keep a handle on your excitement.  If my phone gets wet, it won’t work anymore.”

“Ew.  I’m not going to diddle with the thing.  I just want to see what the soccer star is sending you.”

“He’s not a star.”  I didn’t want a star.  Not a doctor.  Not a pro soccer player.  Definitely not a musician.  I just wanted normal.  Someone who cared, and would make me feel wanted.

“Yet," Em qualified.  "Twenty-one-year-olds don’t go to soccer camp in Madrid because they want to become certified public accountants.”  Em took my phone and turned it sideways to get a larger view.  “Why would men ever think that we’d want them to send us pics of their junk?  It’s not even pretty.  I mean…at least make it stand at attention. 
Try
and impress us.”

“
A little effort goes a long way.  Pun intended.
”  Smiling, Coop stretched her arm and held out her hand.  Em passed my phone to her.  Immediately, she went to work, tapping and swiping at the screen like a seasoned hacker.

“That’s ok.  You can go through my phone.  I don’t mind.”  I totally minded.  A person’s phone was like a private journal, not that I had much stored on it.  But still.

“
It’s employer property
.”

“That’s so not cool.”  Making my eyes pop wide, my phone let out that telltale slide whistle ‘whooooooop.’  “Did you just text someone?  You did!  Who did you text?”

Coop laughed silently, ignoring me.  My phone vibrated a reply.  Coop’s fingers began tapping at the screen again.  My ass barely left the chair when Em reached over and pushed me back down.  “Relax, Paisley, she's not going to do anything godawful.”

“Nothing godawful—that’s really comforting.”

Pouting, I sat back in my chair.  Mei tutted and wagged her rasp at me.  “You should listen to your friends.  They have boyfriends.  You’re single.”

“I’m working on it!”

“You’re aiming for the wrong one,” Em chided.  “Forget the redhead.  There’ll be too many girls after him.  Especially if he’s hot.  They’re like a rare gem—hot redheaded men.”

“At least he’s interested.”

“He’s twenty-one, and he’s a jock.  He’ll be interested in anything with tits.  Trust me on this.  He’s abroad.  He’s young.  He’s got the world in his hands.”

“You could say the same for Jake, except he’s in a band.”

“Jake’s twenty-nine.  He’s traveled the world and back again.  If he’s anything like Tate or Shane, he’s not impressed anymore with these girls who throw themselves at him.”

I snorted indelicately.  “Yet you want me to throw myself at him.”

“Merda!” Em cursed, losing her patience.  “You don’t have to throw yourself at him.  Just stop running the other way.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Marshall’s smile caught my attention.  “Like poles, kid,” he mouthed.  “Like poles.”

I scowled and turned my head.  “I
don’t
date people I work with.”

“Coop, a little help here.”  Em pinched the bridge of her nose as if I were distressing her with my steadfastness.

“
Jake will be here in an hour
.”

“What?” I gasped, the color draining from my face.  Em dropped her hand, her eyes bright with excitement.  I felt like I might be sick.

“
Jake’s going to pick you up in an hour
.”

“Why?  What did you tell him?”  My voice sounded unnaturally shrill, even to my own ears.

Coop bit back a smile, albeit poorly.  “
Just a little incentive to quit dragging his feet before he loses his opportunity
.”

I sat forward in my seat, metaphorical steam spewing from my ears.  “There.  Is.  No.  Opportunity.”

“
Make sure you sand her heels really good,”
Coop told my technician. 
“They need to be nice and smooth."

She was worried about my feet.  Meanwhile my face was covered in some kind of herbal mud mask the color of avocados.  Mei must've come to the same conclusion, because she yelled something in Asian.  A slew of girls filed out of the back room with a stack of steaming towels, a caddy with an assortment of lotions, a rolling cosmetic stand, and hair implements.

“Don’t you worry,” Mei said.  “You’re in good hands.  My girls are the best.”

“Can you lie back for me?”  The girl with the hot towels touched my shoulders with the tips of her fingers, urging me to sit back.  I obliged, though not without tossing a scowl in Cooper’s direction.

“I’m gonna kick your ass for this, Coop.”

“
You can’t touch me right now, and by the time you can, you’ll be thanking me instead
.”

I seriously doubted that.  My scowl told her so.

“Try and relax.”  Draping my face with steaming towels, my esthetician patted my shoulder.  “We’ll just let the moisture soften the mud so we can remove it more easily, ok?”

“Sure.”  Yeah.  Ok.  I couldn’t wait that long.  My patience was thin, thanks to Coop’s interference.  After about five long minutes, I pulled the towels from my face and sat up.  Mei and her girls gave gasps of disapproval as I began scrubbing the mud from my face with the towel, though no one said a word.

“Chill, Paisley,” Em chided.  “You’re causing mass aneurysms.”

“Iiiiii,” I emphasized, “am having an aneurysm.”

“This is supposed to be a place of Zen, and you're polluting it with your negative energy
,” Coop droned.  “
Don't ruin Mei's hard work
.”

“Actually, she pretty when she's angry,” Mei disagreed.  “Very nice color in her cheeks.  Might work for her.”

“I’m not going.”  Coward.  Chicken shit.  Wuss.  I didn’t want to be within ten feet of Jake Whalen.  I couldn’t trust myself.

“
Don’t be a baby
.”

My eyes narrowed.  “I’m not.  I’m being an adult, making a professional decision to not become involved with a coworker.”

“
He’s not a coworker.
”

“Technically, but the circumstance is the same.”

“Come on—just talk to him.  What's the worst that can happen?”

“I could sleep with him again!” I exclaimed.

“Nobody cares if you do.
”

“I do!” I jabbed at my chest pointedly.  He didn't call me, and when he finally showed up, he made his feelings clear that he wasn't going to get involved with me.  There was also the blonde in the photo.

Coop bit back a smile.  “
You're going.
”

“No, I'm not.”

“Where else are you going to go?  You don't have a car
.”

I scowled cantankerously and glanced at Marshall.  “Marshall will drive me home, and then come back for you.”

“No can do,” Marshall refused.  "Can't leave Coop alone."

“This is all your fault,” I told him.  “You told me you wouldn't let me do anything stupid.”

Em and Coop broke into laughter.  “
You can't trust a word he says
,” Coop explained.  “
He told me the same thing about six months ago.  I ended up in Vegas, married and pregnant
.”

“I'll call my brother.  He'll pick me up.”

Before I knew what she was doing, Coop reached out and dropped my cell phone into the foot tub.  “
Whoops
.”

I gasped in horror, my eyes bugging out.  I hadn't paid for it, but it was nonetheless a thousand-dollar smartphone.  “I can't believe you just did that!”

“It was an accident.
”

Accident my ass.  “That's it!  I quit!  I don't want to work for you anymore!”

“Then you'll have no qualms with dating Jake.
”

A half-cocked growl of frustration rumbled up my throat.  I had to grasp the arms of the chair to keep from launching myself out of it.  “O.M.G. I'm losing it.  I'm totally losing it.”

I needed to get myself together.  Every word I muttered caused the mud to crack and flake off my face.  Jake Fucking Whalen was picking me up in an hour and I looked like Godzilla.

“Please help me get this off my face,” I asked the poor girl waiting patiently to finish her job.  She nodded politely and retrieved another towel from the edge of the sink.  With a deep breath, I sat back and rested my head along the edge of the basin.

“I think she's really mad,” Mei observed.

“That's because she's fighting fate,” Em explained.  “If she would just listen to us, she’d be a happy, happy girl.”

“Ah, fate,” Mei said in understanding.  “My mother always told me, ‘when fate throws a dagger at you, Mei, there are only two ways to catch it: by the blade or by the handle.’”

“Fate isn't throwing daggers at me,” I stated, “She's throwing men at me.”

Mei chuckled lowly.  “Then grab him by the balls.”

♪♫♪♫

Hana Lee was just dabbing a sheer metallic tint to the center of my bottom lip when the front door opened and Jake walked into the shop.  She had said something about making my lips appear fuller, but all processes of thought bled away as if I’d actually had an aneurysm.